More poetry, I guess

I announce my arrival with the coming of the dawn
Perhaps still a bit hesitant
Perhaps still a bit broken
But brilliant none-the-less

My poetry used to taste of rust
Of sylvan twilight
Of snapped seams and bleach
No more

I remember the words you said to me
Seething, venomous words
I am afraid they will eat at your bones
Chew through muscle and sinew, anthrax under skin

Those words may be your end, but they will not be mine
I have buried them in my twilight forest
Left them with the skulls laced with octane
With the sleepless nights and empty stomachs and hungry eyes

Now my poetry is birdsong
It’s clutching a mug of steaming earl grey
Early morning runs, wind nipping at my heels
And the peace that was not given, but taken.

***

I was going to write up a post about Avengers: Endgame but let's be honest, I don't have the energy for that right now. (So you get more bad poetry!)